


After Hours Special

by thesevioletdelights



Category: Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Alcohol, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Anal Sex, Body Shots, Genital Piercing, Hotel Sex, M/M, One Night Stands, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Power Bottom Hux, Rimming, Summer Romance, fun in the sun, hux in a bikini
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-08-10
Updated: 2018-08-24
Packaged: 2019-06-24 15:36:45
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 7,252
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15633630
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thesevioletdelights/pseuds/thesevioletdelights
Summary: Forced to take an unplanned business trip to California, Hux finds himself stranded at a boring family beach resort, his saucy summer plans all but ruined. A hot cabana boy comes to the rescue.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Originally written for Huxlolidays 2018 (prompt: "cocktails") as a drabble. Then it turned into something longer, because Hux should be allowed to wear his bikini.

Armitage Hux pushes his sunglasses up onto the top of his head and sighs, for what might be the fourth time this afternoon. Leaning back in his pool lounge chair, he sweeps his eyes across the scenery that is most definitely _not_ a beach in Rio de Janeiro.

Everything had started out so well. He had a plan. Fly to Brazil. Two days of meetings. Two days off duty. Tablet and phone switched off and Hux sunning his arse in Ipanema - figuratively, of course; he would never allow direct sunlight anywhere near his arse or any other part of his body - sipping caipirinhas and making eyes at scantily clad men on the sand. 

Then Snoke ruined it all in the last minute.

 _Americans love you, Armitage,_ his boss had croaked in that grating tone of his that usually meant business. _Mitaka can handle Rio. The San Diego account is more important. Now get out there and don’t disappoint me._

The client insisted on three full days of meetings in the city. The idea of staying in a downtown hotel in the blazing heat was definitely not appealing and with no time to travel further, Hux ended up at a second rate, family-friendly beach resort.

There is no way he can wear the designer bikini bottoms he’d bought for the Brazil trip around here. _Children_ are present.

That bikini was the most meticulously planned part of his trip, too. The selection process had been tedious and the price steep. And now the lovely garment is buried at the bottom of his suitcase with no chance of making its debut, unless Hux wants to parade his arse in front of toddlers and middle aged couples. After some consideration, he settled on a pair of cobalt blue swim briefs before going down to the hotel pool. Their length qualifies as decent, although just barely. Hux likes to stay true to his principles.

He still has a day left before he has to catch his plane back to London. Twenty-four hours with nothing to do but sulk under a parasol and daydream about Rio and skimpy swimwear.

Hux decides he might as well get drunk. At least there is a poolside bar.

He buzzes for the waiter.

The server answering his call materializes beside his lounge chair as if out of nowhere. It’s not someone Hux has seen before. Because he sure as fuck would have remembered… _this_.

The man is tall, with dark eyes and even darker hair and a sensuously expressive face. He sticks out like a sore thumb among the vapid bleach-blonde surfers that wait tables at this resort during the summer. Come to think of it, he’s nothing like the tanned, body-fat-percentage-obsessed boys cruising the Rio beaches either, although his looks and body are absolutely striking. He is dressed in simple board shorts and a black tank top that barely contains his muscles, the resort logo emblazoned across his chest.

Hux is still staring at the tank top being stretched to its limit by those pectorals when the waiter speaks.

“Would you like to try our cocktail special?”

“What?” Hux says stupidly, because the only word in that sentence that’s actually reached his brain was “cock”. The way the man’s lips wrap suggestively around each syllable in his twangy accent doesn’t help either. Hux has a sudden vision of himself, in the storage room behind the pool bar, fingers working the drawstring of the board shorts loose while the man’s large hands palm his arse. _Would you like to suck my cock?_ the deep voice rumbles in Hux’s ear.

_Yes. The answer is yes._

“A drink, sir,” says the waiter and Hux could swear there is a hint of amusement in his tone. “We have a two for one promotion today.”

“Anything with gin,” Hux mumbles absentmindedly. Tries to tear his eyes away from the shapely, massive thighs that are directly in his line of sight. Fuck. He’d do anything to find out what’s under those shorts.

“Coming right up.” The waiter turns on his heels and Hux, exercising great self-control, only checks him out once. 

When he returns, he’s carrying two garishly decorated cocktail glasses on a tray. Probably some kind of gin cooler and a fizz. Not nearly refined enough for Hux’s taste, but as long as there is plenty of alcohol in there he’s not going to complain.

Surely the waiter should set the drinks down directly on the poolside table, but instead, he comes to stand beside the lounge chair, blocking out the sun. Carefully, he leans over Hux to place one of the glasses on the low table on the other side of his chair. His body curves forward, hovering above Hux, surprisingly graceful despite its bulk. He is so close that Hux can see the veins along the side of his neck, the locks of dark hair curling against his nape. He smells of saltwater and light sweat.

Hux wonders how that salty tang would taste on his tongue if he bit into a lime wedge, grabbed the front of that poor, abused tanktop and pulled the man down to him to lick the sweat off his collarbone; then chased it all down with gin. Well. They probably don’t offer those kind of specials around here.

The waiter picks up the second cocktail. Hux follows it with his eyes. A bead of condensation is trickling down the side of the glass. Then a single dewy drop of water slides off the thick base and lands on the top of Hux’s leg.

Hux bites down onto his lip to stifle the undignified noise that threatens to escape his throat. 

“I’m sorry,” the waiter says, not sounding sorry at all. “Let me get that.”

The droplet is now slowly meandering down Hux’s thigh. The waiter produces a cloth from the pocket of his shorts - where did he keep it all this time?! - and presses it to Hux’s leg.

Only, it’s not the napkin that wipes the offending trickle of water away but the man’s thumb.

Hux sucks in an audible breath.

His eyes dart towards the pool, but no one seems to be watching. The two of them are safely hidden by the large parasol.

Hux shifts in his chair, just enough for his thighs to fall open under the touch. His swim briefs might not be as tiny as the bikini he’d planned to wear, but they are still tight enough not to leave much to the imagination. The shiny fabric outlines every detail, right down to the ridge of his hardening cock, and Hux displays himself shamelessly as the man’s gaze slides over his body.

Time seems to stand still for a moment. Then those dark eyes lift, looking straight at Hux.

There is _hunger_ in that magnetic gaze, untamed, almost feral, and it makes Hux shiver despite the summer heat. He wills his mind to take control of his breathing. A drop of perspiration is trailing down his back.

Very slowly, the man moves his hand upward to splay his thick fingers on Hux’s inner thigh, just inches from where Hux’s cock is straining against his briefs. Hux makes a strangled noise that sounds embarrassingly like a groan.

The touch disappears in an instant and the waiter is already straightening up, gathering the napkin and his tray.

“Happy hour is until eight,” he says. “But my shift ends at five.”

Holding Hux’s gaze, he lifts his thumb to his mouth. Sucks hard at the pad of it, licking away the last remaining droplet of water.

“My room is 703,” Hux chokes out.

The waiter nods, then in a flash, he’s gone.

Hux sinks back into the lounge chair, heart hammering in his chest. No one seems to have noticed what transpired just now. He still pulls his beach towel over his groin.

When the roaring in his ears subsides, he is once again surrounded by the sounds of the resort: the music, the noisy chatter of the patrons. A deafening shriek from the direction of the kiddie pool pierces the air. Hux takes a sip of his cocktail. It’s not even good gin.

He decides he doesn’t mind.

\---

The air-conditioning and the quiet of the hotel is a welcome relief from the outside heat. Hux is still flushed when the door of his suite closes behind him, skin warm from the California sun and the memory of the indecent encounter by the pool. Stepping into the shower, he turns on the water and tilts his face up, letting the refreshing spray wash away the sweat, sunscreen and the smell of chlorine.

Trailing a soapy hand down his stomach, he allows his mind to wander. Finds himself thinking about the man’s fingers, slick and cold from condensation, gliding along his heated skin. How massive that hand had looked, resting heavily on Hux’s naked thigh. The thoughts haven’t even evolved into a full-blown fantasy yet and Hux already has a finger pumping in and out of his arse. It’s nowhere near as thick as the ones currently occupying his thoughts, so he adds another one, moaning softly at the pleasant stretch. He lets them slip from his body after a few moments, but not before seeking out his sweet spot and pressing down on it lightly. Just once. That’s enough for now.

He towels his hair dry, slicks it back with just a dab of gel, leaving a few errant strands to fall across his brow. It’s already past six when he emerges from the bathroom, and Hux feels a pang of excitement at the thought of the man ready and waiting for him. Maybe he is already here, pacing outside Hux’s hotel room, all but scratching at the door like a horny beast. Hux smiles to himself.

Joke is on him, because the waiter doesn’t show up until seven.

“Sorry. I got held up.”

“I just got in a few minutes ago,” Hux lies. He might have spent the last forty-five minutes in a state of mild irritation, even checking work emails just to distract himself from the urge to stick his hand down his pants, but nobody needs to know that. He schools his expression into something resembling nonchalance. “Care for a drink?”

Not that there is anything besides beer and a laughably undersized bottle of champagne in the minibar. He could order room service. Then again, room service has just rolled up, casually perfect in a simple black T-shirt and jeans, leaning his bulky body against the doorframe. His eyes are roving over Hux’s chest under his thin white shirt, then downward, to the linen trousers slung low on his hips.

“I was thinking,” Room Service says, chewing on his plush lip as if unsure whether Hux is going to like the idea, “I could fix you one instead.”

Hux wrinkles his nose. “I think I’ve had enough poolside cocktails for today, thank you.”

The man scowls, and not for the first time Hux thinks that he really is much too sulky to be working at a cheerful beach resort. “That’s… the resident bartender makes those. They are shit, but we still gotta serve them. I’m talking about a real drink.” He holds up a bottle, and again, it appears in his hand as if conjured out of thin air. Hux immediately recognizes the distinct green packaging. It’s an unopened Tanqueray 10. “You like gin, right?”

If Hux wasn’t impressed before, the promise of quality liquor certainly would convince him otherwise. And he is already decidedly impressed. Especially by those black jeans, molded perfectly to powerful thighs and stretched firm across what must be a decently sized cock. Or more than decently sized.

He opens the door wide. “Come in.”

“Call me Kylo, by the way.”

Hux nods. “Armitage.”

“Is it,” Kylo says, shooting Hux an unreadable glance from the corner of his eye. Hux should be offended. Being indirectly accused of giving a fake name by someone who goes by _Kylo_. Hilarious. Little does Kylo know that Hux introduces himself like this to all of his one-night stands. There is no better way to keep your distance than using the name no one calls you by, except for your bastard of a father and your boss. “Armitage” is a person far removed from the real Hux, and more importantly, no one feels the need to moan his name during sex. And that is as it should be.

“The rest is there,” Kylo is saying now, motioning vaguely behind him. He stalks past Hux, and towards the kitchenette, already twisting the cap of the bottle open.

“Some waiter you are,” Hux says, frowning at the service trolley parked in the hallway. It’s a rolling minibar, filled with a selection of liquor, syrup and other ingredients. Hux wheels it into the room, following Kylo. “And did you steal this from the pool bar?!”

“I didn’t. And I’m not,” comes the answer. “A waiter, I mean. It’s a temp job until I find something better. Preferably tending bar. In L.A., maybe. Or you know,” Kylo shrugs, running a hand through his long hair, “wherever.”

The mention of Los Angeles is a sharp reminder that Hux has to catch a plane to the other side of the world in less than a day. He grimaces slightly. He really prefers it when fuckboys don’t talk too much. It always spoils the mood.

Leaning against the counter, he watches Kylo open drawers and pull forth bottles and tools from the minibar. Kylo works swiftly and without unnecessary flourish, his movements precise and purposeful. Hux lets his eyes linger on the muscles flexing in the strong forearms when Kylo shakes the ingredients together. _He is good_ , Hux thinks. He could attract regulars in no time at any high-end bar, have both men and women fawn over his skills and those darkly handsome looks.

Especially if he eyefucks them just like this when he slides their drinks over.

Hux accepts the glass with a slight incline of his head. The drink is rose-colored and tart-sweet, definitely some kind of martini. A lemony zing spreads over Hux’s tongue, followed by the herbal notes of gin, and finally the richness of brandy, sliding smoothly all the way down his throat. The alcohol settles with a gentle warmth in his stomach, the heat of it already coursing through his veins and Hux downs the whole glass, maybe a bit too fast.

Kylo is watching him. He has a certain intensity about him, the kind where you can’t tell whether it’s good or bad, until you come face-to-face to it and it’s too late. Like electric current flowing in a live wire, it vibrates under the surface - unseen, but none the less dangerous. People must find his energy unnerving. Hux likes it.

“Can I have a taste?” Kylo asks. Suddenly he is standing very close, looming beside Hux. His palm rests on the countertop, just inches from Hux’s hip.

 _There’s no more left_ , Hux is about to reply.

Then he realizes: Kylo isn’t looking at the glass.

Kylo kisses exactly the way he looks: sensual, animalistic, slightly overwhelming. His hot tongue sweeps into Hux’s mouth, stealing the taste of liqueur from Hux’s lips. The empty martini glass gets caught between their bodies, Hux’s fingers still gripping the stem. Large hands smooth their way down his sides, settling at his waist. Down by the pool, Kylo’s cold fingers had soothed Hux, now their caress is almost setting his skin ablaze. Hux trails his free hand along Kylo’s wide back, then slides it lower to explore the curve of Kylo’s arse, admiring the way the firm muscles shift and ripple under his touch.

It takes a while before they come up for air.

“Well,” Hux says. He sets his martini glass down on the counter, a small smirk playing on the kiss-wet corner of his mouth. “Finally, some adequate service.”

“You’re welcome, _Armitage_ ,“ Kylo murmurs and Hux can only gasp before his mouth is devoured once again. Kylo is crowding him with his body, and for a second Hux thinks he’s going to be fucked right here, up against the kitchenette counter. As good a place as any.

He leans back and tugs on the hem of Kylo’s T-shirt, using Kylo’s momentum to pull the man on top of him. His fingertips brush solid muscle as the fabric rides up Kylo’s stomach. Hux’s head is buzzing. Must be the alcohol.

A thick thigh nudges between his legs and Hux rubs his cock against it eagerly. The friction is delicious and welcome after the wait he had to endure, and Hux is instantly hungry for more. He’s already hard, has been ever since he’s stepped out of the shower. Kylo presses more firmly against his groin, makes Hux rut against his thigh until Hux lets out a frustrated whine. It turns into a moan when Kylo finally cups his cock, rubbing the already wet head through the thin white linen of Hux’s trousers, lips grazing the lobe of Hux’s ear. 

“How do you feel about tequila?”

“Another cocktail?”

“Shots.”

The image of Kylo leaning over him, broad shoulders and collarbones glistening with sweat under the afternoon sun flashes through Hux's mind. He licks his lips. “All right. But we are doing them my way.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The cocktail Kylo makes for Hux is an ["English Rose"](https://tipsybartender.com/recipe/english-rose/), a martini variation usually made with Tanqueray 10 gin.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Slight content warning: Hux has a guiche piercing in this fic.
> 
> many thanks as always to my incomparable beta @callmelyss!

When it comes to drinks, Hux’s preferences are more along the lines of “quality brandy after closing an important deal” than “bad decisions at the club at two am.” Tequila shots definitely fall into the latter category, but Hux can hold his liquor. He is also familiar with bad decisions. Kylo shirtless, sitting on a kitchen stool with his thighs spread doesn’t seem like one—or even if he was, Hux is willing to take the risk.

He steps closer to stand between those long legs. Kylo makes a grab for his waist, but Hux catches his arm. “No touching. Elbows on the counter.”

To his surprise, Kylo obeys immediately and without hesitation, his gaze unwavering as he leans back slowly. The motion pulls taut skin over thick ridges of pure, hard muscle and the sight makes Hux's blood run hotter through his veins, even more than the alcohol did. He could probably spend hours mapping Kylo's body and there still would be undiscovered territory left. It's intoxicating, the thought of having such a powerful man under his control.

He picks up the bottle of Patrón, fresh from the freezer of the minibar, vapor still rising like smoke from its cold surface. 

“I shall hope these fancy bottles won’t show up on my room service bill later.” 

“Don’t worry,” Kylo says. His dark eyes are fixed on Hux. “It’s from a private stash. I get to cover the resident asshole’s shift sometimes. One of the perks.” 

“Cheers then,” Hux says, uncapping the bottle to pour two shots of tequila. 

Kylo sits motionless. Only follows Hux with his gaze when Hux leans over him to reach for the salt shaker. Hux makes a deliberate show of it. If he was able to restrain himself while practically being felt up in front of an entire swimming pool, then so can Kylo.

Still, it takes an effort to go slow. This close, the pull of Kylo's body is magnetic, his breath warm on Hux's cheek. The bulge in the black jeans is definitely more prominent now, and Hux fights down the urge to just straddle Kylo’s lap and grind against his cock. 

Kylo accepts the lime wedge from his hand carefully, closing his lips around the fruit. His mouth brushes Hux's fingertips and the fleeting touch sets off sparks of electricity, sizzling off Hux's skin. 

Maybe there is something to be said for taking it slow, after all.

Hux leans in, places his palms flat on Kylo’s firm chest. Pressing his tongue against the skin, he licks a wet trail up along the well-defined line between Kylo's pectorals. It’s only now that Kylo fidgets a little in his seat, his massive muscles shifting under Hux's touch. Hux pauses to suckle at the dip between Kylo’s collarbones, wetting the skin for the salt; which he licks off with one quick swipe of his tongue before knocking back the shot.

Then, bringing his mouth to Kylo’s, he gently picks the lime from between the plush lips.

He barely has it chewed when Kylo is surging forward, wrapping his arms around him and Hux is being thoroughly kissed as Kylo chases after the citrusy taste, his earlier obedience forgotten. Hux responds in kind, sliding his tongue deep into Kylo’s mouth, even forgetting that he does not initiate kisses with hookups, especially not two times in a row.

“My turn,” Kylo says, after they have separated. His voice is hoarse. "Take off your shirt."

And so Hux does.

It’s not an easy thing to focus on undressing, especially with Kylo’s eyes roving his body, searching with unmistakable intent for the perfect spot to devour. A lime wedge is pressed to Hux’s lips as Kylo’s draws him closer, one hand coming to rest on the small of Hux's back. 

In one fluid motion, Kylo swipes his other hand across the side of the frosty tequila bottle, and a muffled whimper escapes Hux as cold, wet fingers pinch his nipple, giving it a firm twist.

It instantly hardens to a peak.

“Mhm,” Kylo says, picking up the salt shaker. He keeps his other hand firmly on Hux’s back, evidently amused by Hux's futile squirming. “I think I like this here.” 

A puff of hot breath washes over Hux's sensitive skin. Kylo's lips are hovering just a few teasing inches over his nipple.

When Kylo’s mouth descends on him, the sudden change in temperature is like a dart of fire licking along Hux’s chest. The sting becomes even more intense when Kylo begins to tongue his nipple mercilessly, sucking every last grain of salt off Hux’s skin. 

Hux moans through the lime wedge in his mouth. 

In the next second, Kylo’s tequila-stained lips are on his, sucking on the lime and Hux’s tongue.

The drink has left Hux utterly relaxed and utterly horny. A pleasant, alcohol-induced warmth is spreading through his core, in delightful contrast with the saliva cooling on his skin. His nipple is red and sore, still tingling from being tortured by Kylo’s mouth.

Kylo bites the lime wedge in half and leans back to inspect his handiwork.

“Such a pretty pink,” he says. “Can’t believe you didn't burn to a crisp out there."

“Oh sod off,” Hux replies amiably. He is definitely lightheaded now, submerged in a warm haze of alcohol and arousal. “I was supposed to be in Rio, you know,” he adds on a whim. “Plenty of sun there too.” 

“Rio,” Kylo says, chewing almost thoughtfully on the last of the lime. “Guess that’s nicer than down here."

“Could have worn anything I wanted, too.”

“And what is it that you wanted to wear?”

Hux laughs. “Something considerably less proper than what you’ve seen me in.”

Kylo’s gaze is searing.

“Why don’t you show it to me?”

—-

Hux knows his cock is pretty. It’s especially pretty when wrapped in a hint of white and gold Versace fabric.

Having retreated to the bedroom to change, he inspects himself in the mirror. His hair is still more or less in place, but the rest of him looks thoroughly debauched: color high in his cheeks and eyes glittering. The left side of his chest is covered in bite marks in the shape of Kylo's mouth. Hux touches one of them gingerly, the small prickle of pain making him shiver with arousal and anticipation.

He adjusts the strings of the bikini so that they lie perfectly smooth against the curve of his hip bones. The garment is truly the size of a handkerchief—a ridiculously expensive handkerchief at that—pearl white with delicate golden strings, and to put it simply, it makes Hux look all leg and arse. It also does nothing to hide his erection, accentuating his fully hard cock in an almost obscene way. He couldn't be more exposed if he had to walk out there completely naked and Hux thrills at the thought. 

He steps out into the living room.

Sitting on the kitchen stool where Hux had left him, Kylo goes very still. 

Hux trails a finger along the waistband of the bikini, stopping just above the bulge of his cock.

“You’re beautiful,” comes Kylo's rough voice. Warmth spreads through Hux's chest at the straightforward praise. It's not the first time he's been told something like this, of course. Maybe it’s the way Kylo says the words, making Hux’s heart beat faster with his easy honesty that is entirely different from the calculated flattering he is used to. He wanted to be complimented, Hux realizes, wanted Kylo to admire him and desire him even more. Maybe even remember him after this one night.

“Come here,” Kylo says and Hux goes, allowing himself to be pulled close. Hungry lips kiss his stomach while Kylo’s large palm smoothes up along the inside of his thigh, traveling the exact same path it did when he touched Hux for the first time this afternoon. 

Only this time Kylo doesn’t stop. 

His fingers explore the skin of Hux’s inner thigh, then slither up to trace the high-cut hem of the tiny swimwear. Hux makes a plaintive sound when Kylo hooks a finger under one golden string and pulls on the elastic before letting it snap back against Hux’s skin. 

Kylo leans in to mouth at his cock through the opalescent fabric, and this time, Hux groans out loud.

Kylo is on his feet in a flash. Hux can only gasp as large hands cup his arse, pulling him roughly against Kylo’s body, and, in the next moment, a very substantial erection is pressing against his own. 

"So this was your plan?" Kylo growls, the deep timbre vibrating through Hux's skin. "Gift wrap your pretty ass and show it off to everyone on the beach? Let the first guy that comes along fuck you?" 

"Please," Hux scoffs, steadying himself with his palms against Kylo’s chest. Blood is thrumming in his ears. "As if I’d have to settle for the first one."

"I guess you don’t," Kylo concedes. "But as you see, I’m the one who came along. And rest assured,” his tongue traces the rapid pulse in Hux’s neck, up to the shell of his ear, “I’m going to fuck you." 

Thick fingers give Hux's buttocks a hard squeeze. The span of Kylo’s hand actually covers more skin than the fabric of the bikini does— _almost Hux’s entire arse, Jesus fuck._

Hux imagines being lifted off his feet and up, legs wrapping around Kylo’s waist as he is lowered onto Kylo’s rigid cock, impaled in mid-air with nothing but Kylo’s strong arms to hold him up. The thought sends a myriad of tiny shivers down his spine.

The touch of an inquisitive finger stroking along the crack of his arse snaps him back into focus. It presses against his entrance, teasing it through the fabric in slow, circular motions.

“I want to rim you,” Kylo says, breath hot in Hux's ear. “Is that okay?” 

Hux’s stomach does a flip. He’s forgotten how brazen Americans can be. Or maybe it’s just this one, eager to go to town on a stranger in a hotel room. 

“Fuck,” he says, raising his eyes to the ceiling. “Yeah. Yes. Please.”

\--

 _Maybe_ , Hux thinks with his last remaining brain cell as he is being bent over the back of the suite’s sofa bed, Kylo crouching down behind him, _this trip isn’t such a disaster after all._

There are a few things that have certainly made it much more bearable.

One: it’s entirely on Snoke’s expense. Two, Hux thinks as Kylo’s hand caresses down his back, the service is excellent. Three: maybe he didn’t make it to the beach, but he still got to put on his most sublime swimwear—and now he is being carefully extricated from it, the swell of his arse revealed inch by inch as Kylo slides the bikini bottoms over his hips, lingering over the task like he was opening an exquisite present. 

Hux drapes himself over the back of the sofa, shifts his stance a little and waits.

 _Ah, yes._ There it is. The sharp intake of breath.

Hux is well aware of the picture he presents when he is bending over. His small arse looks invitingly round like this, the sensitive area between his long thighs soft and smooth-shaven, from his hole down to his perineum, where two delicate silver beads gleam: two ends of the curved barbell sitting just above his taut, round balls.

 _You have the perfect body type for these, love_ , his artist had told him. _Them blokes are going to lose their minds_.

The ones who are into these things sure do. 

Reactions to his jewelry have always been varied, ranging from shock to curious confusion to instant arousal. It’s mostly the latter. The piercing is subtle yet striking, and exclusively for Hux's pleasure—which is exactly the reason he chose it. It's a shameless testament to how much he loves a cock up his arse, and the sight usually gets his partners geared up for a passionate fuck, but as far as foreplay goes, few have the patience to pay proper attention.

Hux would have not thought Kylo a patient man. And yet he seems fascinated—as far as Hux can tell from his position—fingertips fluttering over the silver beads, caressing them gently as if worried that he might hurt Hux.

Hux smiles into a cushion. ”You don’t have to be so careful,” he says. “Try and pull on it a little.”

“Like this?”

Well. It appears that Kylo is an exceptionally fast learner, who has no need for a genital piercing crash course. His initial tentativeness disappears once Hux lets out an encouraging hum, and soon those long fingers are manipulating the beads, rolling the barbell back and forth in a maddeningly precise way that makes it press up right against Hux’s prostate. “ _Yes._ Just like that.”

“Fuck, you’re so hot,” Kylo says, voice filled with wonder. He is drawing tiny circles around the beads with a fingertip. ”First time I’ve seen something like this. Does it feel good?”

“Very, if the piercing is done right. Ah—No, it's fine, don’t stop… Sometimes just sitting down can give you a thrill. It’s a pain in the arse for healing, though. So to speak.”

Hux is unable to elaborate further. He is distracted by the most delicious little stretch as Kylo takes one end of the barbell carefully between his lips and _tugs_. Then his focus crumbles entirely when a warm tongue prods the piercing, flicking curiously across the little silver beads before bathing them worshipfully one by one, and Hux moans in pleasure as Kylo starts licking him in earnest, pushing firm and fast along his perineum.

“God yes,” Hux says, arching his back and pushing his arse out. He reaches behind him to grab a fistful of Kylo’s hair. “Don’t stop.”

Kylo, turns out, is also a horrible _tease_ —skirting Hux’s entrance, mouthing at every spot but the one where Hux wants it the most. Hux is not going to beg, _fuck, he is not, he’s not_ —and just when he thinks he’s going to lose his mind, he _finally, finally_ feels it, that wonderfully frustrating sensation of a wet tongue swiping over his hole. It's slick and incredible and such a relief that Hux actually sobs. Kylo hums hungrily at that, and the deep vibration sets all of Hux’s nerve endings on fire. 

Then Kylo begins to fuck him with his tongue.

Hux bites down on a cushion to keep himself from screaming. 

He is fairly sure he would be able to come like this, and he hasn't even laid eyes on Kylo's cock yet. All he can do is rest his forehead against the back of the sofa and take it, let Kylo pull his cheeks apart and devour him like a delicacy. Kylo’s chin rubs against his piercing and bolts of pleasure shoot straight to Hux’s painfully hard cock. 

He can feel himself leaking, dripping between his legs into his brand new Versace bikini. 

He doesn't even care.

The slick press of Kylo’s tongue is relentless, and Hux writhes. He wants Kylo to stop. Then he wants Kylo to pleasure him until one of them passes out. The sensation is both exhilarating and unbearably intense, and Hux desperately tries to get away from the intrusion and push back against it at the same time. 

A hard slap lands on his arse. It stings. It’s so good. Hux unabashedly moans for more and Kylo gives it to him, plunging his tongue deep and delivering another smack that makes Hux’s buttock tingle all over. 

By the time Kylo releases him, he is a panting and sweaty mess. He has drooled onto the sofa cushion.

"Let me—" Hux whines. He ignores both how whorish that sounds and that his bikini bottoms are still only halfway down his legs; turns around and sinks to his knees, fingers already working on the zipper of Kylo’s jeans. He reaches inside with a trembling hand. Kylo’s not wearing any underwear. 

Of course, he isn’t.

"Good lord," Hux says, with feeling. “I knew you were a fucking monster." 

_And this is definitely the best thing to happen to him in this city,_ Hux thinks as he pulls out Kylo’s exceptionally lovely cock, fat and long and flushed an enticing shade of red. There is no need for pretense anymore, so Hux is free to close his eyes in bliss and groan with delight as he takes Kylo in his mouth.

“Look at me,” Kylo says huskily, and yes, Hux can do that. 

This here is just one of his many special talents - although one he is quite proud of—and if Kylo wants a show, Hux is not going to deny him one. He grasps Kylo’s thick thighs with both hands, swallows him deeper and lifts his eyes. By now he has learned that he looks the most enticing when wearing a dreamy-dazed expression, just a sliver of his irises visible beneath pale lashes. 

Kylo is watching with rapt attention. He clasps the back of Hux’s neck and Hux braces himself for the push, but it doesn’t come. Kylo just rests his large hand there, letting Hux suck his cock as slow and unhurried as he wants, fingers playing with the trimmed hair on Hux’s nape. The added sensation of blunt nails scratching his skin is fantastic and Hux moans, the sound muffled by the thick length filling his mouth.

“Yes,” Kylo says softly, looking like he’s never seen a sight as lovely as Hux on his knees before. 

_Time to make him squirm._

Hux draws back, drags his mouth slowly up along Kylo’s shaft until he reaches the tip. He pauses there, pursing his lips. Wraps them gently around the wide head of Kylo’s cock, looks Kylo straight in the eye, and _suckles_. 

"Shit," Kylo gasps, grasping at Hux’s shoulder. "Enough. That's enough."

Sitting back on his heels, Hux allows himself a satisfied smirk. He can’t gloat over his victory for long—he is being hauled up, almost lifted off his feet and deposited unceremoniously onto the sofa bed.

_So they won't make it to the bedroom. Fine._

Hux flops onto his stomach, kicking at the bikini bottoms still clinging stubbornly to his thighs. They refuse to come off, so he glances over his shoulder for help.

“No,” Kylo says, grabbing Hux’s ankle and Hux yelps as he is flipped onto his back. Kylo pushes his knees up to his chest and as wide apart as the fabric stretched across his thighs allows it. “I want to see that naughty little jewelry first.”

Exposed and bent in half, Hux’s is forced to wait until Kylo strips off his jeans and shakes a small tube of lubricant and condoms from one pocket. Soon he is rewarded for his patience as Kylo bends his head again to lick at his piercing, the now-familiar stroke of his tongue accompanied by two slick fingers sliding into Hux’s wet and loosened hole, and Hux melts into the long-awaited touch with a needy whimper.

When Kylo kneels onto the sofa to line himself up, Hux is more than ready to tell him to just get in there and fuck him. The words die in his throat at the first push of Kylo’s cock. He can feel his mouth falling open, his lips parting on a soundless gasp.

Kylo’s growl is predatory. Obviously, he must get off on reactions to his size. Hux would tease him for it—if his brain could focus on anything else besides breathing deep and trying not to clench. He has taken a few quality cocks in his life, but _this_ is something else.

And yet, it's perfect.

“If you want me to go easy on you,” comes Kylo’s voice from above, “just say.”

“You underestimate me,” Hux grates out. Gasps at the welcomed burn when the wide head breaches him at last.

“Could be,” Kylo muses. “Do you often get fucked like this, _Armitage_?" A push forward. "With your slutty panties around your knees?" Another agonizing inch. "Maybe you do.” And another. “If I’m not up to your standards, I can stop.”

“Oh dear Lord,” Hux groans, head tipping back in relief as Kylo finally bottoms out. “You’re unbelievable.”

Soon, he has no more complaints. When Kylo begins to move, it only takes two long, deep strokes to wring the first soft, breathy cry from Hux. 

“There you go," Kylo murmurs. "I will make this little hole feel good, I promise.”

And he does.

It's slow at first, Kylo dragging his cock before pushing it back in at a torturously painful rate, hands gripping the underside of Hux’s thighs. It’s everything Hux imagined it would be, and more. With one foot planted firmly on the floor, Kylo rolls his hips with steady, shallow thrusts and Hux clutches at the sofa cushions, toes curling in pleasure. 

Trapped between his thighs, Hux's neglected cock twitches. He pleads for release with a little twist of his hips and Kylo grants it, pulls the constricting bikini bottoms off and tosses them onto the floor. Hux sighs, legs going limp and head lolling back as Kylo fucks him harder, pushing Hux’s thighs wide apart to rub his piercing with his thumb.

Hux’s focus is slipping, the outside world nothing but a haze compared to the brilliant intensity of that incredible cock moving inside him. Only Kylo, with his halo of dark hair and wild eyes, is a sight to behold. His powerful body is glistening with sweat, the muscles in his thighs and abdomen straining as he thrusts deep into Hux. His ragged grunts mingle with Hux’s moans and the sounds must be perfectly audible to Hux’s suite neighbors, drifting through the open balcony doors into the summer night. 

At some point, Hux finds himself all fours, hips anchored by large hands as Kylo kneels behind him and enters him again, without finesse this time. The slide of his length at this new angle is incredible, each hard thrust setting off a spasm of painfully intense pleasure that has Hux crying out in an instant.

“Oh, you like it like this?” Kylo says, breathless. “Should have guessed.”

Hux whimpers. Lowers himself onto his elbows to push back on Kylo's cock.

"More? You can have it."

If Hux ever thought he stood a chance of exercising control over Kylo, that notion is now completely gone. He can’t even remember the last time he’s been fucked like this. Possibly never before in his life. His swollen, flushed cock is bouncing between his legs as Kylo pounds into him mercilessly, hands grasping Hux’s arse. His balls are slapping against Hux’s piercing, and every thrust feels like an electric shock shooting through Hux’s body.

Hux’s arms give out under him. He collapses onto his stomach, Kylo’s weight heavy on his back, that obscene cock buried in his arse to the hilt, splitting him in half.

“Squeeze it,” Kylo commands, his breath hot on the back of Hux’s neck. “Squeeze your little ass down on it.”

“ _God_ ,” Hux groans. His face is burning. His fingers search for purchase, struggling in vain to grip the upholstery underneath him. His aching prick rubs against the rough fabric as he squirms under Kylo, and the friction is _so much_ , enough to have Hux on the verge of tears. Kylo presses his lips to his neck, to his jaw, his ear, whispering sweet encouragements and Hux bucks his hips, clenches desperately around the massive cock filling him up. 

“Yes,” Kylo growls. “There. There you go.”

He draws back with a long, slow drag along Hux’s rim and rises to his knees again, wrapping his arms around Hux’s torso to pull him back against his broad chest. His hand closes around Hux’s throat, squeezing gently as he drives his cock into Hux again and again. 

Hux’s eyes are rolling back in his head. Kylo’s mouth is on his ear, whispering lovely, filthy things—how he knew that Hux wanted to be fucked like this from the moment Kylo first saw him, how his ass is so tight and perfect. By all means, it should be awkward. Instead, it’s the hottest damn thing Hux has ever experienced. 

He tips his head back on Kylo's shoulder. For the first time in a long long while he gives himself up entirely; to Kylo's sultry voice, his strong arms holding Hux tight, to the deep, pounding, utterly involuntary orgasmic pressure confined to that sensitive spot inside him, the rhythmic ache taunting him with the possibility of a never before experienced, different kind of release.

"More—" Hux gasps. "Just a bit more—-"

Then Kylo’s hand is on his cock, jerking it with quick movements— and Hux shouts as he is betrayed by his body, his come shooting straight up in one long spurt, followed by a few more, coating his chest and stomach as he is left gasping and trembling in Kylo's arms.

Kylo shoves him forward. He wipes his fingers on Hux's back and Hux moans with the utter _filthiness_ of it.

“That’s it—” Kylo growls. He grabs onto Hux’s arse with both hands, holding Hux’s hips firmly in place as he drives himself deep, ravaging Hux’s already abused hole as if he was nothing but a fucktoy—and Hux loves it. He is boneless, draped over the corner of the sofa, already slipping into post-orgasmic stupor. Aftershocks are wrecking his body, the tremors hitting like the waves of the ocean, rising and falling, lapping and lapping at Hux's core until he is unable to do anything but lie there, whimpering and shaking, his hole twitching around Kylo’s cock.

Kylo comes with a sensual, desperate moan, his bruising grip on Hux’s hips never wavering. Hux can feel that obscene cock pulsing inside him, emptying its load, but he is denied the sensation of the hot, wet spurt, and it's maddening. Kylo slumps forward, covers him with his heavy body and, for an insane second, Hux wishes they wouldn’t have the condom between them, wishes he could just lie there, until he is filled to the brim with Kylo’s come.


End file.
